


Speed Dating

by terroringlasses



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Broadway References, F/M, POV Darcy Lewis, Previously uncredited Parks and Rec reference, Speed Dating, not remotely canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 07:05:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19057681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terroringlasses/pseuds/terroringlasses
Summary: Jane abandons Darcy at a speed dating event by herself while she’s supposed to be under security lockdown. But her attendance has not gone unnoticed by any of the Avengers- one in particular.





	Speed Dating

Darcy had just received her drink- whiskey, straight up- from the bartender, and she turned to survey the room. It was a classy little pub, all dark woods and moody, yet functional lighting. The company running this speed dating event had chosen a good venue.

Not that she wanted to be here or anything. She’d originally suggested it to Jane, who desperately needed to put herself out there more. Jane hadn’t dated someone who wasn’t Thor in...oh, who knew how long. But then Jane turned it back on her, suggesting that Darcy was equally in need of putting herself out there. After Darcy registered the both of them, Thor had shown up again, and Jane suddenly expressed a desire to stay in (with Thor, naturally; was this healthy for either of them?), while Darcy was...speed dating. Very much out there.

This fucking sucked.

A blonde woman in a sheath dress rang a bell, something that made Darcy snort inelegantly into her glass. No one noticed her amusement, as the woman began to speak in a light New York accent.

“Welcome to One-Minute Matches! Thank you for joining us this evening. If you haven’t been to one of our events before, here is how it works: we have two circles. The inner circle is for the women, the outside circle is for the men. You will choose any seat. Once the bell rings, you’ll have one minute to speak to your partner; when I ring it again, the men will get up and move one seat to their left.” She was no fuss, no muss. This did not, to Darcy’s mind, feel like a scenario that promoted romance. “Now, everyone has a sheet to mark those with whom they are interested in speaking further. At the end of the event, we’ll collect the sheets. Matches can continue their discussions or plan future ones. Any questions?” None. Wahoo. “Wonderful! Please choose a seat!” She rang her bell.

Darcy’d spaced out somewhere in those instructions, but found a seat facing the bartender. She was already regretting this. Why had she suggested this to Jane? The banality, the heteronormativity...she was suddenly extremely envious of her friend, who was no doubt at this moment banging a literal god and, more importantly, not here.

She was examining her sheet when she heard the chair across from her pull out. A blue velvet blazer, a name tag, scrawled with “You know who I am.” Oh no.

Was she in hell? This felt like hell.

“Intern.” Tony Stark nodded at her, the sunglasses he wore indoors (what a douche move, Darcy thought) low on his nose. “I see you’ve gone AWOL.”

“Stark,” she hissed, “I am not an intern. I am the Avengers’ government liaison, I am here on my own time. And you can go suck a-“

“You’re not supposed to be out of the tower without an escort.”

“I don’t need an-“

“You constitute a security risk to the integrity of the Avengers’ strategic planning.”

“What strategy? Half the time you guys just drop in, bang a bunch of shit together, and bail.”

The bell tinkled. “Later, Lewis.”

“Go to hell.” Oh good, she still had whiskey.

“Hey Lewis.”

“Clint?”

“Hi there. Uh, Pisces, I enjoy tight, high spaces, trick shots, and pizza.”

“Please don’t say ‘tight.’” She cradled her head in her hands. “Also, you forgot ‘married with children.’ I’m going to need another drink.” She caught the bartender’s eye.

He shrugged. “Good idea. Hey, do you know if this place serves food?”

The bell tinkled again. She wished- oh, how she had wished- to be surprised when Captain Steve Rogers dropped into the chair across from her.

“Steve,” she greeted drily.

“Darcy,” he nodded.

“You know, you lot are going to break some hearts around here. The Avengers pop into a lonely hearts event, and half-if not all of you-are off the market?”

“Lonely hearts, huh? That what you are?”

The glass sparkled as she swished it, trying for extra casual in the face of his guilt trip. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“It ain’t right, Darcy-“

The bell rang again. She waggled her fingers at him in parting. “Bye, Steve.” She resisted the temptation to drain her glass.

“Just so you know, I voted against this.”

She smiled gently at the chair’s new occupant. “I know you did, Bruce.” She leaned in, conspiratorially. “Because you know what it’s like to feel locked up, right? I mean, to feel like your choices are so limited, it’s almost not worth making any, until the only option is to just, like, drop out?”

Bruce stared at her. “That’s not exactly what I-“

“It would be a damn shame to lose multiple friendships over an evening out.”

He looked sad. She hated making him sad. Any of them, really. But, well, they weren’t really playing fair either.

The bell rang. Bruce vacated the chair.

“Hey, Miss Lewis!”

“Peter?” She sat upright in the chair. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s 7 p.m! This establishment is 21 and up!” She tried to be responsible around the kid, she really did.

“Oh, Wade got me a fake I.D.”

“Ooh, lemme see.” Her ire dissipated.

He showed her the card. The picture was actually pretty decent, Parker had a good head on his shoulders, and Stark would shit a brick if he found about it, so she was content for the moment. 

The bell rang again as she was about to ask after May. She was almost sorry to see him go.

No, scratch that. Very sorry.

In front of her sat Bucky Barnes, the Avenger- man, person, ugh. The last person on Earth she wanted to see ever. Someone she lov- loathed. Even if she found him completely irresistible.

Past tense, she tried to remind herself.

“Darcy.”

“Barnes,” She mimicked him slightly, the whiskey getting to her. She could see his left hand grip the table. “Putting yourself out there, huh?” She took a moment to give him a brilliant smile. “Same.”

The table splintered slightly. “What do you think you are doing?”

She looked around. “Well, I was trying to meet some nice civilians with whom to share conversation, meals, and-“ her voice lowered- “recreational activities. But it appears I can’t even get that right!” She didn’t bother not yelling as she gestured to the row of men who’d sat in his seat previously. “No, Bucky, the question is, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He opened his mouth, but the bell rang. 

“That’s time,” she said, disgusted, “move along.”

He looked like he was going to argue, but he got up, face mutinous. She did not look after him.

“Hey Darcy!”

“Scott! What’s up?” She was relieved to see Scott. He was funny, cute, and openly in love with Hope Van Dyne. It made her heart ache to see the two of them together on the rare occasions they were both in town. But she enjoyed his company, and he made Darcy laugh.

There was a shortage of laughter in her life right now.

“Not much. In town for some Avengers business, you know? Brought along my man Luis.”

“Luis?” She brightened at that. Luis was a riot, and could out-talk her any day.

“Hey Darcy!” The man in question whispered to her from a few seats away. She heard a slight “hmph!” From his date.

“Yeah, we’re going to hit up some tourist sites, see about some contracts. Hey, you want to go to the Whitney with us?” Scott took a sip of his pop.

“No she does not!” Tony and Steve both yelled from across the room. Bucky growled. It did something to her insides, something she was determined to ignore.

The bell rang. “Bye, Scott! Call me.” She smiled sweetly.

And there was Bucky again. She looked at him, deadpan. “That’s against the rules.”

“She doesn’t mind.” He nodded at Natasha, who just rolled around him to the vacant seat.

“Et tu, brute!” Darcy hissed at her.

“Darcy, you’re interrupting my date.” And Natasha smiled at the woman across from her, who flushed and smiled back shyly, and Darcy could almost believe it was a real date.

Except that would mean she too was on a real date, with the man currently sitting in front of her. Again. And they weren’t doing that! Dating. He’d made that very clear. She glared at him.

“We’re not dating.”

“We are here, in a bar, together, participating in a speed dating event.” He gestured, uncharacteristically, arms wide, at the room around them. She gulped at the expansion of his chest.

“No, you and your ne'er do well cronies-“ she raised her voice, enhanced hearing be damned- “have hijacked my dates as well as all these other fine folks, who are trying to meet real prospects for relationships.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

Her mouth gaped for a moment, but she recovered quickly, considering the question. “Somebody who respects me.” He was quiet. She strode on. “Respects my independence. My career. Lo-cares enough to offer wise counsel while still letting me make my own mistakes and not saying “I told you so” when I fail.” She coughs. “Not blaming me when, say, I get kidnapped as a hazard of my job-“

He snorts. “Hazard of your hard head.”

“As a hazard of my job of working with the Avengers, an organization he also holds very near and dear to his heart. Someone who fights for me not just when there is actual fighting to be done, but the good hard work of wrestling with one’s emotions, as well.” She looked down at the table, suddenly very sad. “Someone who has actual emotions towards me.”

There was silence. She looked up at him, and this time, he looked stunned. “Doll-“

There was a cough, and then the bell rang. The blonde woman looked sheepish.

“That’s time,” Darcy whispered.

She didn’t know how in the hell he got up out of that seat, but again, she was not surprised. Watch, and you could see her heart break from total lack of surprise.

“Darcy!”

She was brought up short by that cheerful greeting. “Hey, Luis!” She forced a smile, blinking back a surreptitious tear. “What’s up?”

“Eh, not much. Hey, you need to come hang with Scott and me while we’re in town. We were taking in a show the other night- cause you know how much I love contemporary book musicals, yo, the transcendent power of theatre- and we were stagedooring “Carousel,” and Scott and I were debating which song was the better song about pining- is it “If I Loved You” because the song is really about the couple confessing without confessing, because they’re so broken inside and afraid of being hurt, or is it “On the Street Where You Live,” because Freddy is infatuated, and Eliza clearly wants nothing to do with him, she’s so embarrassed, but he doesn’t care because he is happy just to be near her, and it’s full of joy, and also we had seen “My Fair Lady” the day before, and it was beautiful, Darcy- Scott and I both thought “If I Loved You” is a compelling moment, and it’s so integral to the growth of the characters and their relationship, but man, knowing what happens to them- it’s such a bummer. Lerner and Loewe were en pointe with “My Fair Lady, but I prefer Rodgers and Hammerstein’s body of work to the Ls any day. Anyway, Bucky said-“

“Bucky?” The word blurted out, practically a hiccup, she was so surprised.

“Yeah, Bucky. He went to the show with us. Steve, too. Courtesy of one Tony Stark, ayyye. Anyway, He said that “On the Street Where You Live” is the better love song either way, because it’s selfless. He doesn’t care about her requiting his feelings, he doesn’t care about other people’s thoughts, he just cares about being near her. Knowing where she is.”

She thought about that. The bell rang.

“That’s time, Darcy. See you later.” He leaned forward to give her a quick peck on the cheek, then moved on.

She waited a moment, and then a man dropped into the chair in front of her. He was well groomed, with bright white teeth, and shining brown eyes. His name tag read “Tom.” “Hi, I’m Tom!” He leaned forward, peering a little too intently at her nametag. “Darcy, is it? It’s nice to meet you.”

She sighed, the disappointment seeping into her bones. “Ah shit, you’re AIM, aren’t you.”

He froze, just a hair too long, and then snorted. “No, I am not!” He sputtered. “What-What even is AIM? And for that matter, how do I know you aren’t AIM, huh?” He waggled a finger at her, looking pale. 

Every Avenger in the room had stood, including Sam and Wanda (who wiggled her fingers in greeting). Except for Bucky. Darcy stood up then, too, and looked at him. “I’d like to go home now,” she said, dejected.

Bucky nodded. Natasha already had “Tom” detained in a pretty grim looking twist. Darcy walked right past them, knowing Bucky was behind her.

The walk back to the tower was quiet. Her head thudded with something- shame, probably. She’d have to put up with Tony and Steve’s “I told you so’s,” their endless condescension, the boredom and indignity of being stuck up in the tower again.

And Bucky. She’d get the same from him, if she got anything at all. There had been times in their...flirtation...when she thought he’d felt something besides the obvious physical attraction. Something a little deeper, a little more permanent. Something she could hang her hat on. But no. The actual culmination had been breathtaking, even if its aftermath had been sad. No, not sad. Devastating. So Darcy was working from experience here. Disdain, or apathy. That’s what she could expect from Bucky.

They pushed through the revolving doors into the tower’s atrium, all the chrome and glass reflecting blue lighting. “Good night, Bucky. Thanks for walking me back.” She pushed the words out, rushing to the elevator as quickly as she was able.

As Bucky stepped beside her, she cursed the many, many floors of Avengers Tower. “You’re not home yet,” he said, neutral. “Let me walk you up.”

She expected more silence on the ride. She did not expect his eyes to feel so heavy on her. She forced herself to meet his eyes, to give him back every bit as good as he gave. “You look really pretty tonight.”

For some reason, that set her off. “Why do you say stuff like that?”

“Because it’s true. Because you deserve to hear it.”

“I’m more than just a face, Bucky. I’m competent. There are many tasks entrusted to me, you know. I talk to important people on behalf of the Avengers, literally all damn day. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Never said you did.”

“I don’t need Steve Rogers breathing down my neck whenever I want to buy a freaking donut.”

“I’ll say.”

“I don’t need to be protected from AIM, and I don’t need to be protected from you.”

He breathed, in, out, in, out. “On that point, we disagree.”

“Oh, fuck you, Bucky.” The elevator door dinged, and Darcy was on her floor. “Don’t follow me.”

He didn’t listen. He never listened. She plotted how to block him from entering after her at her apartment door. “Can we talk?”

“We did, several times tonight.”

“Do you know what would have happened if we hadn’t followed you tonight?”

“No, do you?” She was pissed now.

“No, and I don’t ever want to know. I don’t want to think about what people like that might do to you. It makes me sick, Darcy.” She flinched a little, at the sound of her name. “And me- I could do even worse.”

She stopped, key card hanging from the lanyard in her hand. “Couldn’t have been worse than waking up and finding an empty bed.”

She heard the whoosh of his breath behind her. “You think that was easy?” He gripped her by the shoulders, and let him turn her around. “You think I wanted to leave that bed? Darcy, if we were together, you’d be a target of every major terrorist organization with a stake in me. You’d never be able to have a normal life again.” He gave a humorless laugh, and it scraped at her heart. “That’s nothing to what I might do to you, if I ever...turned again. No, better for me to bite my tongue, to drive myself crazy, so I can keep you safe, and you can have the life you want.”

“That’s so funny,” she whispered, “Did that look like me living the life I want? Free to go where I want? With whom I want?” She was tearing up now; oh, the waterworks were really flowing. “You can tell yourself that you’re being selfless and smart all you want, Bucky Barnes, but I know that there’re only two reasons you might deny this. Either you’re scared, and hell, I’ve seen you fight, that’s not likely, or...or you just don’t care.” She could not see for the flood in her eyes. “Neither one changes my feelings. I gotta go.” She whirled around, swiped the key card, and entered and shut the door before she started wailing.

She wanted to shower. She wanted a drink. She wanted to sleep. She would probably pick one, and- 

And there was a relentless banging on the door. She knew who it was, knew she couldn’t open that door and retain a shred of dignity. What could she hope for? Round two, and another empty bed in the morning? 

She’d said her piece, and she’d have to be satisfied with that. He couldn’t talk her out of loving him.

“Darcy,” Bucky’s voice was low, muffled through the door. “Darcy, open up.” She inched forward, felt herself reaching for him, even as her instincts screamed nonononono. He knocked again, and she heard a soft “please.” She closed her eyes and the distance and dragged open the door.

And was rewarded with Bucky, grasping her in his arms and burying his face in her neck. “Bucky?” This was...confusing, to say the least.

“Of course I care. I can’t stand the thought of you thinking I don’t care. I care so much I bought out an entire stupid speed-dating event because I couldn’t stand the thought of you walking away with some guy.”

“That is possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” She was breathing a little heavily.

“I am scared- of losing you, of you learning the worst of me, of you being hurt on my account.” He was pressing short, demanding kisses to her neck, and it was distracting her from these beautiful, lovely words she was sure she was imagining.

“And I’m telling you, Barnes, you can’t prevent any of that.” His hands, which were starting to do some delightful things to her abdomen, stilled at that. “No, I mean, ugh.” She took his chin in her hands. “When I was kidnapped-” He growled. “Stop that and listen. When I was kidnapped, I decided that I wasn’t going to be scared anymore. Because if it’s not Hydra or AIM, it’s a car accident, or cancer, or dying in bed at eighty-six years old. You know?” He was still, silent. “They’ve got nothing that scares me. I’ve seen that side, how they operate. The only thing in the world that frightens me is…” She took a deep breath. “...is not having you in my life. Not having you near me.”

“I want to be near you so much it hurts,” he said, speaking as though he were in pain at the moment. “You want that, too?”

“It’s all I ever wanted.” She knelt her head down to meet his forehead. Leaning there, she felt the two of them breathe, each inhalation slowly starting to sync up.

He smiled, a rakish glint in his eye. “Well, surely not all?”

She kissed him, meeting his lips for the first time since he’d abandoned her bed. “Maybe an actual date.”

“Doll, we just had a date. In a bar. We participated in a speed dating event.” His voice was dry.

She groaned. “That travesty was not a date. I cannot believe you crashed my date-”

“With my ‘ne'er do well’ cronies.” His hands were moving quickly on the buttons of her shirt. “Those hoodlums. Buncha punks. Why I oughta...

“...Or that you actually bought out the event, when literally all you had to do was ask- Barnes? Barnes! Bucky!”

**Author's Note:**

> It’s a little on the nose, but there are several other WiPs I’m working on, so here she goes, out into the world. Comment with the Broadway musical you’d match with your favorite Avenger.


End file.
